Convergence
by Silver Saire
Summary: What happens when two different types of magicks collide? Factor a few yamihikari relationships in and what do you get? YGOHP crossover RB, YY, MM, among others.


**Convergence**  
the title up there is iffy/last minute;  
don't worry, it's subject to change!

Chapter 1.  
Apple Pie and Fruity Shampoo.

* * *

It was July, but the night around the dilapidated house on the hill was sharp and chilly. Despite the cold outside, one room upstairs had a fire blazing in the grate, warming the two occupants just enough. One was sitting in an old, high backed armchair; the other was hunched over on the floor and was surrounded by piles of books through which he was sifting.

"Have you found anything yet, Wormtail?" rasped the one in the chair, shifting as he spoke. His voice was strangely high-pitched, and as cold as the icy wind outside.

"N-no, my Lord," the other stuttered nervously. He flipped the pages of the book in front of him more frantically, as if it would result in the discovery of whatever they were searching for. In his haste, he tore a corner off the page in the book. He discretely slipped it into the pocket of his robes. "I've looked everywhere, all of the modern magical theories, the exploratory -"

"Fool!" hissed the man in the chair, obviously annoyed. "We will not find the way to gain power in these modern books! Dumbledore already knows about all of them. I've already been denied one too many things… don't make this another disappointment!" He paused, as if thinking, and mused darkly, "The prophecy's gone and my followers have been captured. The boy has been placed under even more security than before. All I'm left with is a pathetic excuse for a servant." He _tsk_ed, and then whirled back to Wormtail. "_So find me what I want!_ Look in the most ancient books of magic! Magic that has been long forgotten!"

The last few words were spat out violently, and Wormtail cringed. "But m-master, those are just myths and legends. S-surely you do not believe them?"

His master's voice dropped until it was barely audible. Wormtail could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped a few more degrees. "Of course they are true…" the other breathed. The air in his words seemed to whistle in his throat as he spoke. "All legends and myths have origins that are real, dear Wormtail." Wormtail didn't move. "So keep searching!"

Wormtail squeaked. "Y-yes, my Lord!"

They continued to sit in silence, the man called Wormtail hurriedly turning pages of dusty tomes. An hour passed. Then two. Then a few more. Finally, Wormtail broke the silence. "My Lord! I have found something!" He spoke excitedly, a silver index finger pausing, trembling, at a paragraph in a very old, very worn book. It was, he thought, all very melodramatic. The other read the page, taking a definite interest in it as his eyes moved further down the page.

'Once upon the ages, when ancient evil Egyptian sorcerers threatened to destroy the world with their summoned monsters and frequent battles, a young but powerful pharaoh used his magic to seal them away. However, the sorcerers found another way to bring the creatures to life, and the terror continued. It is said that the pharaoh used seven very magical items to trap the powers forever. These were the seven Millennium Items, seven artifacts that possess great magical qualities. Legend says that when all seven of these items are placed together, the owner of all of them will have the power to command – or destroy – the entire world.'

Lord Voldemort, for that was who the being reclining in the armchair was, did not act on hunches. He killed with green beams of light and ordered masked minions around. But he was sure that he'd heard something about this particular Egyptian story before. He also wasn't exactly in a position to be picky choosy. He decided that his oh-so-evil reputation could wait. And so he told his servant, "Yes… yes, this is exactly what I've been looking for, Wormtail! Track these items down at once!"

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Wormtail wondered where the hell he was going to start looking for these ridiculous items. Unfortunately, any skeptic qualms he had about his duties were squashed by the intense desire to live, and so he bowed deeply. A "Y-yes, my Lord" was uttered, and, with a swish of his cloak accompanied by a small popping sound, Wormtail vanished, thinking to himself that some strong liquor was in order. Alcohol first, treasure hunt later.

* * *

The doorbell to number twelve, Grimmauld Place rang loudly. An old woman in a portrait began screaming. And an elderly man with flowing, silver hair quite literally _popped_ down the hall to answer the door. The visitor, a woman with spiky bubblegum pink hair, was panting a little from exertion outside on the doorstep. She straightened up and brightened as soon as she saw the man.

"Wotcher!"

"Ah, Tonks! What a pleasant surprise! Do come in!" He stepped to the left of the doorway to make room for the newcomer. The woman, Tonks, gratefully stepped in and shed her heavy traveling cloak. The lady on the wall was still shrieking away, but it didn't seem to have any adverse affects on either of them. Not a word was exchanged until they reached the kitchen. Another woman was already sitting there sipping tea. She had her graying hair swept up in a tight bun and imperturbably watched Tonks remove her modified Muggle earplugs. She was talking even before she sat down.

"I – ran – three blocks here – so it wouldn't – be – so suspiciousy – if I – Apparated – ! Oh Albus – Minerva – I was worried – that you wouldn't even – be here!" Tonks, who evidently hadn't realized that sprinting three blocks attracted unwanted attention, also seemed to be unable to get more than three words out at a time.

"Oh yeah! So!" She sat up a little straighter and looked the two seriously in the eyes, leaning forward across the table conspiratorially. "It's You-Know-Who!" she staged whispered, in an I-have-a-secret sort of voice. "He has another target! Something about seven items that have magical powers. Y'see, I ran into that git Wormtail at a bar while I was, um, undercover for something else. And anyway, he sang like a bird after a couple of shots."

She reached over for Minerva's tea, but Albus had beaten her to it. She made an empty swipe and frowned to herself, continuing.

"Well I guess I should've had him taken into custody then and there… but it was too much trouble and I had something else… and _anyway_! The items! Okay, so when they're put together, the owner will have enough power to rule the world! Or… something. And we – Kingsley and I – found out almost half of the items are in one city. It's called something… a sort of Muggle game… Mahjong? No, hang on… _oh!_ I remember it now – it's called Domino! Somewhere in Japan! And it's not like they're in a museum or anything either; Kingsley says that the owners of some of the objects are _kids_! Bah, this new generation – if you're anyone, of course you have to be underage like Harry and his sidekicks."

"They're Muggles?" interrupted the other woman.

"Um… yeah, I think so. Minerva, Albus, those kids are in danger! We have to do something or he'll get to them and who knows what will happen then! Ooh, and there's also an individual in that area who has traces of sorcerer's blood in him. Like… serious traces. I wonder why the Sakuma Academy in Kyoto never picked up on it? He's friends with The People With Items, so You-Know-Who might go after him, too!"

The wizened man appeared to be thinking, but it was debatable, since he was also helping himself to Minerva's tea. Finally, he spoke, the tea running rivulets down his beard and staining it slightly yellow. "We'll invite them to Hogwarts," he stated in his usual infuriatingly slow, sagely manner. "It'll be safe enough there. I will send them letters immediately." Code for: Minerva, send them letters immediately.

He paused, and opened his mouth as if there was more… but instead sipped some more of Minerva's tea.

The other two threw side glances at each other and did the eyebrow thing. Dumbledore continued to smile rather unconcernedly.

_

* * *

It's raining cats and dogs and beavers outside, and the house smells like apple pie. Oh, excuse me. __**Warm**__ apple pie. [1 _

_And is there any apple pie anywhere in the house? No. Of course not._

Bakura was about to pass out from this disgustingly _happy_ smell just floating around. Ryou, being the dork that he was – loveable dork, but dork all the same – had gone out to that candle shop he liked and splurged again.

Last week it had been Hazelnut Fresh Roast. [1

Whoever came up with the idea of making scented candles had to be flamingly homosexual, he decided. And why people even bothered to mix the chemicals for crazy scents like these Bakura didn't know. What he did know was, if it wasn't for the fact that it made Ryou so goddamned happy, they'd be pleading for their lives.

"Bakura, have you seen my shampoo?"

Ryou emerged from the bathroom door. Bakura licked his lips. Dripping wet, white towel slung – rather provocatively; maybe yadonushi _was_ learning something from being around Malik all the time – low over hips barely held up only by a hand…. Ooh, good. He was walking over now. Bakura thought he looked rather delicious. Deliciouser than usual. And he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it, but he also thought that Ryou looked positively adorable standing there with the wet-hair-drowned-kitten look. Ahahaha, oops. He _was_ dead. He wouldn't be caught alive… admitting it…?

Ryou was still standing there waiting for an answer. "No," Bakura told him, grinning up at him and snagging him around the waist, making Ryou plop into his lap.

"Ba_kura_, I'm wet!"

"Good." Bakura muttered into his neck, nipping and sucking at the dewy, pale skin. His hands reached down to slide the towel down his hips…

"'Kura, no!" Ryou batted away the hand and detached himself from the spirit, getting back on his feet and wrapping his towel securely around his waist again. "Now have you seen my shampoo or haven't you?"

Bakura stretched, pointing lazily over in the general direction of the kitchen.

Ryou sighed, giving the spirit a suspicious look that said plainly, 'How in the world did it get there?' before tramping off to get the fruity stuff, leaving a wet trail on the floor.

Bakura reclined back on the sofa, ignoring the fact that his pants and shirt were wet – compliments of drownedkitten!Ryou – and trying very hard not to inhale any more of the Warm Apple Pie thing. He caught a glimpse of something speeding by out of the corner of his eye and casually reached up to snatch it out of the air. _Score._ Bakura allowed himself a few seconds to mentally congratulate himself, fairly pleased at not having lost any of the old skill. Then he caught sight of Ryou's horrified expression in the hallway leading into the kitchen.

"_Bakura!_" Wow. Bakura was intrigued. Ryou had said his name four times in the past two minutes. But Ryou kept on spluttering rather incoherently, eyes fixed on whatever was in Bakura's hand. … Oh. He glanced down… and saw something small and feathery dying in his grasp. Aha. There's the problem.

"You could let go of it, maybe?" Ryou suggested smartly, rolling his eyes as he pried Bakura's fingers loose from… the thing, having somehow magically teleported over to the sofa again. The thing dropped limply onto the floor, panting for breath. They stared at it blankly. Then Ryou crouched down and poked it, and it jumped to its feet, swaying dizzily.

"Aww…! It's an owl!" Ryou suddenly exclaims happily. He scooped up the thing and dumped it unceremoniously into Bakura's lap. "Baku, be a dear and look after it for a little bit, won't you? The water's still running and I've got to finish showering." And with that, he kissed him on the cheek and hurried back into the bathroom with his shampoo. Great.

"Now… what'll I do with you?" Bakura grumbled at the tiny owl. It just blinked up at him in response, apparently having forgiven him for nearly strangling it a scant few seconds prior. Bakura squinted. Hang on, there was something tied to its leg! Being the very capable and compliant yami he was, by the time Ryou stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, the owl and himself had already become best friends. He had changed into dry clothes, the letter that had been attached to the creature's foot had been removed and set on the counter, and said owl was enjoying a refreshing dish of unpoisoned water. Ryou should have been very proud. He felt he deserved another kiss, at least.

But noooo – Ryou made a beeline for the bird and petted it affectionately, before picking up the letter with curiosity, not once coming to pet the Bakura.

"I wonder who sent this…?" He mused aloud, absentmindedly stroking the little runt of an owl. Bakura decided right then and there that the he and the owl would have to end their friendship. He scowled from where he was bent over, propped up on one elbow and drumming the counter with his fingers, and didn't answer. "Oh, Bakura," Ryou sighed, frowning. "Stop sulking. I love you, okay? Thanks for taking care of the owl."

Okay. That was better, but not by much.

Ryou's slid his fingers under the flap of the envelope – thick, heavy paper – and breaking the odd seal on the back. His other half stole up quietly behind him, sneaking arms around his waist. Ryou automatically leant back, relaxing into Bakura, and the yami poked his tongue out at the bird. _Hah. Dumb Owl- 1; Bakura- 2 _

Bakura buried his head in Ryou hair, which was fluffy and warm and soft from the hairdryer, and gets a nice big whiff of whatever fruity stuff he was using, when there's a cough and – in his humble opinion – The Most Annoying Voice In The World breaks in.

"Sorry to be spoiling such a… _touching_ moment."

_Eugh. Pharoah. Leather pants (you should try on a pair, love). Stupid runt of a hikari. Holier-than-thou smirking._ Bakura shot these sentiments over the link. He grinned as a muffled-but-discernable chortle came in reply.

"Oh – hey, Yuugi," Ryou said distractedly, moving on to the second page of whatever had been in the envelope. "How did you um…" _How did you get into my house?_

"Yeah, you got one too!" Yuugi interrupted excitedly, waving around what seemed to be an identical envelope.

"Ummmmm…?" Yuugi held his pose (arms in air, left leg up) and Ryou continued to look at him blankly.

"No fear! _I_ SHALL READ IT FOR YOU ILLITERATE LITTLE KIDS!" cackled a muted, new voice, before the door was flung open and Mariku made himself known; head high, chest puffed out, with exactly three items in tow: a mutilated copy of The Letter, a [no-doubt stolen copy of the Oxford Unabridged English Dictionary, and one disgruntled Malik Ishtar.

_How did_ he _get into my house? _Ryou didn't get it.

After determining that Mariku was, in fact, the one who was illiterate, Malik read his letter for him.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
Dear Mr. Ishtar,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to  
participate in a special event occurring at Hogwarts School of  
Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. This involves the enrolling of  
foreign students to learn magic. For more information, please meet  
Professor Dumbledore at Domino Park on August 2 at 1 PM. As  
students above 3rd year are allowed to visit the village of  
Hogsmeade, please get your permission form signed and ready if you  
decide to attend.

Term begins on September 1. Please find enclosed a list  
of all necessary books and equipment, and a permission form to visit  
the nearby village of Hogsmeade. We will be notified if you accept  
the offer; there will be no need to send an owl.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress

He looked up, blinking. They looked at each other.

"Well that's a funny sounding come-to-our-school college letter [2 ," Ryou mused.

"And it's better than any other college letter, because we've already been accepted!" Yuugi hadn't wanted to go to Domino University, anyway.

"Shall we?"

"LET'S."

And so it was decided. And then Mariku decided to tie the bird to the dictionary and chuck the two-in-one package out the window. Ryou blanched. Bakura howled with laughter. Yami took this opportunity to grope Yuugi's ass.

* * *

[1 Um… both from White Barn Candle Co.? Hehe, I _love_. ) 

[2 I don't know about Japan or anywhere else, but in the States (thanks to College Board and the NMSQT), you get _pelted_ with letters, pamphlets, brochures, bribes (I got a hat from Tulane once), and various assorted propaganda from every single fucking college you haven't heard of, and not enough from the ones you'd like to go to.

So… there you have it. I had initially planned on revamping _A New Sorcerer_, because everything about that story makes me go yuck – the title, the writing, the plot… but especially the title – but it decided to go a different direction once I started deleting chunks of juvenilely-written story. As you can see, I've borrowed the first little paragraphs and the underlying plot bunny (albeit a very bad, very generic plot bunny); this was originally going to be a make-it-better tale of semi-success, so I was expecting anything amazing… unfortunately, this story probably won't be anything amazing either. \

I can't shake the feeling, but something about it is still frustratingly unsatisfactory. Maybe I'm just not cut out for writing? Maybe in four more years, I'll come back and try to fix it again? _A New Sorcerer_ was seventh grade. I am now in a junior in high school. This is the byproduct of guilt-because-I-left-it-hanging-for-three-years, hey-fandoms-are-really-easy-to-fall-back-into, and the I-don't-want-to-do-all-this-IB-work-over-winter-break notion.

Review if you feel that I should continue? Please? )

Cheers and a happy holiday to all!


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